Crusade
by Sanctimonious Ape
Summary: "For you" He was unaware that his gift would spark a war between peoples. Gerudo and Hylians at each other's throats. A collaborative effort with Tiger7210 and an addition to her The King's Bride story.
1. Preface

**I don't know what to call this. I approached Tiger7210 back in August of last year - golly that was a long time ago - and put to her an idea of my own that involved Gerudo and Hylians alike (seeing as at the time she was writing The King's Bride) and I think what she said to me was "** **Make it King's Bride canon I dare you,** **make a King's Bride AU," so here were are just under a year later with a little taster of an Alternate Universe of an Alternate Universe to see how people like it.**

 **Hang on, sorry, I should make some introductions. I'm Sanctimonious Ape, and I used to write big long reviews for Tiger7210 because I love reading her stories and they're amazing, no doubt about that. I should really get back to those reviews because I still haven't quite finished...**

 **It's set before The King's Bride, and focuses around the life and times of Ganondorf, whom we saw but brief glimpses of in the original story. To some extent, the story is also set around Ocarina of Time, but I'll make it a point not to mess with the game too much. There's no way to neatly divide it, but a bit of it will happen before the game, and a bit of it will happen after.**

 **I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't, you'll make me very sad.**

* * *

"For you."

His gift was a simple thing. Unlike all the lacklustre roses of the courtyard garden, he had chosen a flower from his desert homeland to woo Alayna Percel.

She looked up, smiled, a blush touching the corners of her cheeks. Modestly, she accepted his gift, taking it from his hands with her pale, slender fingers. By comparison, his were dark and swarthy, beaten by sand and wind, and yet still delicate enough for the lover that he fancied himself as.

It was a rustic gesture, innocent and unassuming to the sophisticate society of the Hylians. He would earn their trust this way, in these talks for peace and diplomacy between their two peoples, but perhaps he would win their hearts as well.

Alayna was beautiful. No doubt.

A cascade of dark curls sat upon her shoulders, and matched her dark eyes perfectly. She had womanly figure, subdued curves that hid beneath layers of silk, lace and cotton. A pretty face.

There was not much else he could ask for. And so, the flower. It had grown from a vile and twisted plant, contorted by the harsh climate, but had still produced something stunning. Roguishly, he had taken it for his own, and now presented it to her, as a token of affection. It borne a perfume that he had given it by magical means, for it had none of its own, and otherwise coloured its petals a little more. But, of course, as a means of green magic, that of Farore and so alien to a practitioner of Din's red magic, it was hardly a master piece.

"Thank you," she said, shyly, tucking the flower behind her pointed ear, "it smells nice."

"Think nothing of it," he smiled, magnanimously, affecting a regal bow before her, "I thought a pretty girl like you in a place like this should have something that was as lovely as herself."

She eyed him, and smiled.

"Sometimes, I think people forget that the Gerudo are people too, Ganondorf. I hope you don't mind me saying, but a lot of Hylians see the Gerudo for only the girl-snatchers that the folk songs make them out to be."

He smirked, and brought himself up to his full height, "Well, you should pay more heed to those silly songs of yours. I'd make off with you if I could."

Alayna laughed good-naturedly, but stopped and leaned to her left to look behind him. Ganondorf looked around, and saw that another man had entered the rose garden. To him, the nobleman was nobody. The Gerudo had, after all, only arrived in Castle Town a day before, and had not yet met with all the nobles of the Hylian court, great as their numbers were. Alayna made their introductions.

"Ganondorf, this is Prince Daphnes Nohansen. Daphnes, this is Ganondorf. He is the prince of the Gerudo, as you can probably tell."

"Yes, I am aware," said the Hylian, with bitter vitriol in his voice, "My father and he met yesterday."

"I did not see you, your majesty," replied Ganondorf, bowing, "I hope we become friends in this time of peace and prosperity between our races."

It was a lie. Nothing but that. From the onset, this man seemed furious with his presence. He had slighted him in some way, and they hadn't even spoken before. But with Alayna present, he kept his tone cordial and smooth, to avoid enraging him. This did not have its intended effect.

Daphnes smiled icily, and bowed his head.

The princelings were cold about each other. Ganondorf was not welcome.

"Do you have anything to say, Daphnes?" asked Alayna, wryly.

"I would rather say it in private." He spat.

"I understand, your highness. I will attend to other matters, for the time being. I will see you both some other time," responded the Gerudo, stung.

He slipped past the Hylian, and into the castle, where he stole away into shadow, casting his eyes back to his desert flower.

* * *

 **So there you have it, a little prelude to whet your appetite. Normal chapters will be a fair bit longer and approximately 2 or 3 weeks between, but don't hold me to that. Please.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello! You all probably thought that this story died didn't you? Well, I can hardly blame you. Here's another chapter out of the blue. Chapter 3 might be out next Wednesday or it could in 2020 I don't even know. Enjoy!**

O)oo(O

It was getting dark when Ganondorf rode back into the city, and immediately he was called into the Kingschamber – Fortin had returned home before him.

"Father I –"

"Silence. You will listen whilst I speak."

Ganondorf bit his lip and bowed his head. Fortin remained silent for a while, watching the construction of the wall in the dying sunlight. For two years, the bearer of the Triforce of Power had been away, fighting a war in a distant part of the desert.

"Goddesses, Din most of all, have you learned nothing? I return to my capital, and where are you? In the furthest reaches of the unknown. You cannot leave the running of the city to the Seven nor the Council – in my absence, you are the Son of the West Wind."

He stressed these last words, his huge hands gripping the balcony railing.

"Lest you forget, my son, you are the prince of your people, and whilst you may think you can spend your time gallivanting off into the far reaches of the desert, you owe the Gerudo a service. In these dark times, especially with the city-state incident still a raw blister in the minds of the people, do you not think you are responsible? What if it falls to you to quell an uprising such as that? Will you run away from your duty into the unguessable desert? You may be the youngest of my children, but you are no longer a child and must learn to face your problems head on."

With the sunset framing him, his body thrown into red, earthy two-tone, Fortin embodied the image of the conquering king returned to his capital. In his long shadow, Ganondorf awaited his words.

"I have decided to send you along with the embassy to Hyrule. Although I am loathe to send you out whilst you are still so recently returned to the fold, I realise this will be an opportunity for you to study the Hylian people. You will endear yourself to them and have them like you. I assume, by leaving it in your capable hands, that you will not find it hard to fulfil this task? You will not fail in this duty I have set you, Ganondorf."

His form, a black mark against the sunset, turned away from the sky, and instead towards him. Ganondorf's eyes darted to the ground. A shiver gripped him.

"No, father," he said, shortly. He bowed his head, anticipating judgement. There was a long pause, that echoed throughout the Kingschamber. Lingering quiet gave way to three, heavy footsteps as Fortin approached him. The metal of his armour, chain links and blackened plates, caught the last rays of sunlight and reflected it dimly. A hand clapped his shoulder, and Ganondorf looked up into the shadowed eyes of his father.

"It is time you grew up, Ganondorf. The desert, as I am sure you know, is vast and inhospitable, and it will not be forever that your books can entertain you. You are destined for great things, but you are naïve. The desert will take you and grind you to pieces. It does not care for the bright spark nor the pretty flower."

A smile creeping into the corners of his face, Ganondorf interjected.

"Father, if I may… I found this."

He retrieved a withered desert bloom, and presented it to him. Fortin tipped his head as he examined it, begrudgingly shrugging.

"Perhaps my metaphor is not as apt. Regardless, the point stands. There are forces in this world that will take your flower and destroy it. Keep it close to you, protect it, and only give it to the one you'll love forever."

Fortin paused, looked away, and removed his hand. Ganondorf, taking his advice, hid the flower away.

"That is all. Return to your chambers," the king commanded him, "you will ride under the moon."

Ganondorf nodded minutely, "I understand. Thank you, I will not fail you."

Fortin did not respond. His eyes flicked across his son only for a moment before he turned away, towards the sky and waving him away.

It was difficult to speak to his father. Everyone else could do it with such ease, they knew exactly what to say. Everyone expected their relationship to be perfect, but that was furthest from the truth. He was awkward, formulaic, anxious. The right words never sat on his tongue.

Quietly pardoning himself, he swept from the Kingschamber balcony and into the adjoining hall. Tension rose from him, a half hundredweight burden of tradition and expectation lifted from his shoulders. Resting against the door, he let out a breath, before slowly stalking through the halls to his own room. He had to prepare.

 **o)oo(o**

"Do you fight?" Daphnes asked brusquely, all but pushing a rapier into his hands, "Oh, what am I saying? Of course a backwards savage like you can fight. What I mean to say is do you fight properly?"

Breaking from his reading, Ganondorf affixed his cool gaze to the other prince.

"My people do not play at being soldiers, your majesty," he said, secreting his scrolls inside his robe, "We are soldiers. It may have escaped your notice, but, throughout history, the Gerudo were warring tribes. My father has only just re-united them, using his might to depose the bloodthirsty warlords who vilified us and directing my people's efforts into something productive."

He smiled thinly, silently urging the princeling to be on his way. Instead, Daphnes gave a large, pantomime yawn.

"Well, that was a terribly interesting history lesson, but I am afraid that long ramble does not answer my question. Do you, or do you not duel?"

"No," he answered. Deciding not to humour his mocking, Ganondorf held Daphnes' gaze, and steepled his fingers, "Your majesty, at the risk of sounding too intelligent and well-meaning, do you not think a sword fight between two heirs of previously warring peoples might have some… negative connotations? In these diplomatic times, I wish to try my best at preserving the fragile peace between two powerful nations."

"Not at all! In truth, I feel such a thing would bring our two cultures together, and besides, I hope to sort things out between us. It may seem…" Daphnes trailed off, and then whilst he examined one of his rapiers, "that we might have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I fully intend to put things in their proper places."

"Or maybe you're just Cucco!"

He drew himself, standing a head taller than the Hylian princeling. If Daphnes was cowed, he did not show it.

"Fine. We'll duel," he said, disinterestedly swatting Daphnes aside and pushing past him into the courtyard. Amongst a small, clustered gathering of minor lords and ladies waiting anxiously, there stood Alayna.

"Oh. I see," Ganondorf chuckled deprecatingly, "You wish to fight for Alayna's affections. How… Hylian."

It was all exceedingly clear. Daphnes Nohansen had his heart set on Alayna Percel.

Taking his place, opposite the Hylian princeling, he raised his hand into the air and concentrated his magic. Again relying on green magic, as he had done with the flower, he crafted a shape from the sunlight and weaved the wind into it. Once he had the basics down, he let his red magic flow easily into it, giving it a sharp, tapering point at its tip. Perhaps a little wasteful, and a drain on his resources to maintain such a complicated construct, but it easily amused the crowd. His amazed audience applauded, but Daphnes quietened them with a glare.

Levelling their swords at each other, the princes began to slowly step counter-clockwise, their eyes locked. Reading the duel as best he could, Ganondorf knew he was out of his depth. He could only hope to maintain a defence. For all Ganondorf's bluster in the face of Daphnes' arrogance, the Hylian was without a doubt the better swordsman. His poise, the steel in his eyes – the princeling was another man altogether with a sword in his hand and an opponent in front of him.

Of course, Fortin wanted his son to train in all forms of sword craft – rapiers, short swords, all manner of Hylian straight swords and Gerudo scimitars – after all, in his eyes, magic could not be used in every circumstance. Ganondorf did not share his line of thought. Magic had been there before the first Gerudo had built their cities, and would still be at their side when their walls fell. But still, in this situation, magic seemed like cheating. He could not demean himself in front of Alayna.

Daphnes feinted towards him, and Ganondorf fell for it, letting himself be hit as Daphnes drew back and found his way past his defence. The Hylian's lips twitched into an arrogant smirk, and his stance relaxed as he became more confident.

"Let me teach you a lesson in manners, Gerudo," he hissed, quiet enough that the words only just reached Ganondorf's ears "It may not be as well established in the desert, but here, in civilisation, stealing women away from their beloved is generally frowned upon. I saw Alayna first – I got down on my knees and I begged her for her hand. What makes you think you can come here with your weed and take her from me?"

He attempted to feint again, but Ganondorf saw through it. He stood his ground and batted back the real attack. Seeing his chance, he moved forwards Daphnes, his phantasmal blade darting through the air and poking him in the side. Ganondorf sneered whilst the Hylian stumbled.

"Alayna is not a prize to be won – no woman is. I just think she'd like it a little better in the desert than in cold stone halls," he smirked. Daphnes sucked in a breath and cursed, slicing at the air.

"You don't get it, do you? You think this is some sort of game, but you couldn't be more wrong! We are engaged, promised to each other. Our wedding is in a month! I will not have you steal her away from me!"

Furious, he abandoned his technique and lunged forwards. Ganondorf dodged backwards but slipped and fell, Daphnes' words sharper than any weapon. Losing his concentration, the sunlight blade faded away, and without a blade, he frantically looked for the other rapier. Daphnes seemed not to care that his opponent was without a way to defend himself, and continued his offensive. At the spur of the moment, Ganondorf decided that the rapier was too far away – his salvation would have to be of magical means.

He threw his hand up, creating a feeble shield as the rapier point darted towards him. Almost entirely spent, his lifeforce could not sustain even this simplest of spells, and the shield broke almost as if it had not been there. The Hylian princeling bore down mercilessly upon him, grinning evilly.

"Daphnes! Stop!"

The swordfight came apart, Daphnes turning to see who had called him. Ganondorf pulled himself to his feet and looked at his hand. He clenched it in an attempt to stop the shaking.

"Haven't you done enough? Look at him! You can't just kill him to feed your own ego!"

"My love, I would not…" Daphnes attempted to explain himself, but no words came to him.

A snort of derision met these words, and Alayna moved away from him dismissively. She reached out to Ganondorf, but stopped shy as he waved her away. He bent double, and wheezed a little.

"Are you alright?" she asked cautiously, eyeing him.

"I'll be fine, I just need a little time to recover. Please, don't touch me, my lifeforce hungers."

Alayna froze, suddenly afraid of him. To a Hylian, who probably prior thought magic a pretty party trick and not the basis of a society, a supernatural hunger might frighten them. He could only imagine how he looked: colour drained from him, features gaunt. Shooting a glare at Daphnes as he drew himself up again properly, his glower disappeared as he saw the desert bloom behind Alayna's ear.

"I must concede, you have won, Hylian," Ganondorf grinned, composing himself before a coughing fit overtook him, "Perhaps… I will not be so bold as to try to impress others and use more… mundane methods. Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to withdraw."

Flashing both Alayna and Daphnes an insincere smile, he turned on his heel and swept into the cloister that surrounded the courtyard. He had been foolish. He was an idiot. He had been drawn too far into the showy decadence of the Hylians and he had almost overstepped his limits. Well, no more. He would remember himself, and he would remember the Gerudo way, practical, effective. His magic was a finely-honed tool, not an extravagant toy. No more would he be drawn into silly games.

He would go about this properly.

 **So, yeah. Sorry for making you all wait this long, I hope you'll give me a second chance on this. If you would like, drop some words in the review section because they have a magical effect on a writer, no lie. Stick around, maybe we'll see the thrilling next installment yet.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Ok. Let me start by saying that this is by no means the final edition of this chapter. It's not to say I think it's bad, but it still needs improvement. I think as well that sometime soon I'm going to edit all three chapters that are up. This chapter's also a little short because I split it into two. Next part should be ready soon!**

 **O)oo(O**

A'ielio.

From what he could tell, it meant 'The Eye'.

There wasn't much mention of it in the Kingsrecord. He'd scoured it at least four times, and what little there was in the first hundred volumes was not enough. It had passed from faint memory to fiction to impossibility. It was implausible that without a constant maintenance across the centuries it would have remained standing.

A hidden fortress deep in the desert, seeming lost for generations, it was said to contain documents on everything the Gerudo had ever known about magic, both for everyday use and that which was forbidden.

And Ganondorf had stumbled across it. The tall front of the building was cut deeply into the sandstone of the plateau: from afar, it might look a little irregular, but anyone nearby would probably not figure it to demand their attention.

If there were anyone nearby.

This far deep into the desert, Gerudo City was a little more than two weeks' journey. Perhaps the furthest he had been, and perhaps a little reckless in this time of civil war.

He'd almost been recognised in that last settlement. Well, that was fine, he could take another route back, now that he knew which way he was going. Of course, if he could have it his way, he would journey ever deeper. Future responsibility clung to him like a leash.

He dismounted from his horse, pulling his scarf from around his face. The architecture was amazing. There was the crude suggestion of pillars, and rough engravings from history. It was a pity that the wind had worn down the images, but he could feel a lingering sense of power about them. This had not been done by a team of stonemasons, but rather one man – the Son of the West Wind.

It was hard to tell who, exactly, beyond that margin. It was old – probably his grandfather or great-grandfather. Before that, he was sure the engravings would have properly dispersed against the elements. The rock bore the marks like scars, suggesting that red magic had been used to hew the rock into shape rather than green magic to chisel away at it over time. Certainly, the design had been refined and improved later, but the first marks on the sandstone were the deepest.

A'ielio was as old as the unification of his people, perhaps even as old as Geru himself, myth-ancestor of the Gerudo. It was ironic that civil war still raged whilst he rediscovered the building that had stood the test of time.

Heading into the building via the small doorway borne by the rock, Ganondorf contained his excitement until he entered the central chamber, a circular room lit with a round skylight. An atmosphere of calm lay heavy over the place, everything seemingly undisturbed. Doubtlessly it had been left the same way for one hundred years.

In the middle of the chamber sat a small oasis, ringed by brick. It hosted many beautiful flowers, each more varied and different from the last. Cautiously, he approached it, sinking down onto one knee for a closer inspection. There was something unnatural about the petals and perfume, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. He'd seen flowers before. There were, of course, ones growing out in the wild on hardy shrubs and cacti, but these were totally different. He suspected they were Hylian. But that still did not explain it. He hoped that if it was something magical – an enchantment of sorts – the secret was in this room.

On the other side of the room there stood an oval mirror that captured his entire form. Amused by his reflection, he smiled, before directing his attention elsewhere. His gaze swept the room. Books and scrolls lined the chamber walls on tall shelves. The amount of knowledge here was staggering. It might take him a year to read everything, let alone understand the concepts.

He hadn't the supplies to stay here. By tomorrow, he had to return to the nearby town to restock for the long journey home. He resolved to take a handful of texts and return sometime in the future.

O)oo(O

He had been followed. The trackers had kept their distance, but now that he was out in the open again, they descended upon him, weapons drawn.

He urged his horse into a gallop, directing it to where the plateaus fell back into the steppes and then into endless, rolling dunes. His first instinct was survival – even with his magical understanding, he had not the power behind his magic to make it matter. Regardless, he sharpened the light around him into red daggers and cast them at the three riders behind him. They were spaced apart so the attack did little to hinder them.

Flattening himself against the body of the horse, Ganondorf retrieved a small book he had taken from A'ielio from his satchel. He read the instructions hurriedly, taking note of the bodily gestures, and turning in the saddle to face his pursuers. Stretching his left arm out and making a fist, he drew his energy back along his arm, and focused it into a point.

To the riders behind him, it probably looked like he was miming drawing a bow, and he could faintly hear laughter. However, when he released his imaginary arrow, a bolt of fire shot towards them. Their horses reared up, but they quickly goaded them back into action. He would need a more permanent distraction. Referring again to his book, Ganondorf alighted upon a different spell, and began the appropriate movements and focused his energy into the right places.

In response, a clawed and evil looking arm shot from the ground, and grabbed one of the pursuers' horses by the leg. Using the momentum, the rest of the body that belonged to the arm came out from under the sand, deftly swinging into the saddle. Quickly disposing of the previous rider, the moblin took the reins and drew a sword with an indiscriminate war cry. The other pursuers shied away with revulsion, but once the monster showed it would continue after them, they took up arms against it.

This gave Ganondorf the perfect moment to put more distance between them. Summoning the moblin had certainly taxed his lifeforce, but it seemed to remain of its own accord. Not sparing a second to look at the monster's handiwork, he sped away, spying the wide-open desert. He would be free.

Were it not for the second group of warriors hiding in ambush and jumped out before him. The startled horse beneath him kicked out in confusion, and tried to shake him off. Resolute, he tightened his grip and dug his heels into its flanks, commanding its direction and whirling around. There had to be some way out. There always was.

There were four of them altogether. The three who had pursued him from A'ielio - minus the unhorsed rider -and the two ambushers that cut him off from the wide-open desert. It would be little competition, even with the moblin on his side. His eyes darted across the sandstone faces of the canyon, and in exasperation he breathed through clenched teeth.

He rode back to A'ielio, towards the moblin and the original pursuers, and again conjured red daggers from the air. He rained them down upon one, whistling for his monster's attention. On the spur of the moment, he turned, directing the moblin to protect him as he continued his escape.

The whistle of an arrow past his ear startled him, and he looked around to see one of his ambushers using a bow. For some reason, he hadn't reckoned on them having weapons of his own. Wary of reaching his lifeforce's limit, he didn't try a counter attack, merely flattening himself against his horse and urging it on faster.

Instead figuring it was better to use his magic as a distraction rather than a direct attack, he pulled out a scroll and hastily read it, taking note of where his energy was best directed. Calling the moblin closer to him, he stirred the air in a lazy circle around them, using a sandstorm to hide them.

Shouts of confusion and bemusement arose, but faded as Ganondorf quickly put distance between them. Although small in size and lacking in power, the screen of sand was adequate to confuse the pursuers. He hoped he would be long gone before the wind died down.

Despite the howling of the storm around them, the eye of the storm was entirely calm, more like a hurricane than a real sandstorm. Putting faith into the protection that his magic had afforded them, Ganondorf allowed his horse to slow.

"I'm sorry," he said, to the horse, patting its neck. His gaze flicked to the moblin, who watched him expectantly. He nodded towards it in acknowledgment.

"And you, thank you," he said aloud.

The monster stared blankly at him, and then with a grunt, placed a fist over its heart. A sign of allegiance. Ganondorf allowed himself a smirk. He wasn't sure how long the moblin would last, but it felt good for something, someone, to have his back.

 **O)oo(O**

 **Thanks for sticking with me so far!**


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